


Ma Famille

by writtenthroughtime



Category: Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-23
Updated: 2016-04-23
Packaged: 2018-06-04 00:25:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6633271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writtenthroughtime/pseuds/writtenthroughtime
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: Pretty please write me a story with Fergus calling Claire and Jamie “Mam” and “Da” because I need these feels in my life like I need air. <3333</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ma Famille

The bedcovers twisted and knotted around him as he fitfully slept, nightmares plagued him. Fergus generally slept curled up against the cool stone wall of the third story bedroom at Lallybroch. The stone was usually cold and comforting to him, but not tonight. Tonight the nightmares raged on, visions of monsters in red coats slashing at all those he cares for—the cute blonde girl who sold flowers near the brothel in Paris, Murtagh, Milord, Milady, and the unborn babe Milady carried—any and everyone he possibly knew flashed before his eyes bloody and dead.

The monsters in red coming at him with claw like hands, dragging him away from all that he knew and loved. His arms outstretched as the monster’s claws dug in deep, pulling him away from the bloody corpses of Jamie and Claire Fraser. Jerking awake he exclaimed, “Mam! Da!” his body was shaking and broken out in a cold sweat.

His fear was palpable; the fear of loss, separation, and abandonment. He was shaking so hard that he could feel his teeth rattling together. Fergus fought the knotted sheets and fell from the bed. Untangling himself he crept out of his bedroom—cautious not to wake the rest of the household—and sought out Milord and Milady.

Fergus slowly cracked the door open to the Laird’s bedroom where Claire and Jamie were cuddled together on the bed, caressing the giant swell of Claire’s stomach.

His heart lightened. They were alive.

Sighing, Fergus turned to leave, pulling the door with him.

“Fergus?”

He jumped, not expecting to hear the deep rumble of Milord’s voice.

“Yes, Milord?” He tentatively asked, poking his head back into the room and fixing his gaze on the wood below.

“Are ye in need of something?” Jamie asked in a worried tone. “It’s no’ like ye to seek us out in the middle o’ the night.”

Fergus shook his head adamantly, dark curls swinging from side to side. “Nay, Milord. I wish not to bother ye or Milady. I just…” he trailed off.

“Go on,” this time it was Milady’s voice, a soothing tone of encouragement emanating from her words.

“It’s nothing, I’m sorry to have disturbed ye so.” Ducking his head further down, Fergus quickly went to shut the door but was stopped. The door wouldn’t budge, looking up he saw Milord’s hand firmly around the side of the door.

Jamie smiled down at him, “Come on lad, ye ken ye can tell us anything that ails ye.”

Fergus let out a deep breath, and nodded as Jamie eased him across the room towards the bed.

“Do you want to sit up here with us?” Claire asked, patting the bed next to her.

Torn, Fergus wanted more than anything to curl up with Milord and Milady like a petit enfant or to bolt from the room as fast as he could to avoid their questioning stares.

Another pat on the bed, and a tug on his hand from Jamie and he reluctantly climbed into their bed. Shoulders stiff, and body tense Fergus didn’t know how to act. He wasn’t their son, he was their pick-pocket, nothing more than a burglar they needed on hand, why would they want him to lay on the bed with them? Why treat him like more than the servant he was?

But they never did treat him like a servant, thief, or a criminal. They always treated him well…like a son. Fergus loved Milord and Milady as more than just his employers, to him, they were his family. Parents he never got to have; the support and love he always wanted.

Jamie rested a hand on Fergus’s shoulder and gently massaged. “Relax, Fergus. We’ll no’ harm ye, ever.”

“That’s right. If there’s anything at all that you wish to talk about, we are always here for you.” Claire said, pushing back the hair from his face.

Always so gentle, kind, supportive, and loving. They cared. They cared as much as he cared for them, at least he hoped so.

“ _J'ai fait une cauchemar_.” Fergus rushed out, not bothering to speak in English. Hoping that they would not understand him, but he knew deep down that was futile. They both spoke perfect French and would always know what he meant.

“A nightmare?” Claire asked, soothingly his back in long even stokes.

Fergus nodded.

“Any particular nightmare, _a balachan_?” Jamie asked, squeezing his arm slightly in support.

Again, Fergus nodded.

“I dreamt the _monstres rouges_ killed you and Milady, then they dragged me off away from both of you. Your eyes…” He trailed, off tears forming in his own eyes as he recalled the blank soulless gaze of Milord and Milady from his dream.

“Shhh, now. Shhh.” Claire comforted, wrapping her arm around Fergus pulling him to her breast. “We are alive, and so are you. The red coats do not have you and they never will.”

Fergus let the tears fall, but would not let his emotions take over.

“Ye have naught to be scared of, Fergus. We will protect ye, always.” Jamie said. “That’s what family does.”

At the word family, Fergus gave in to his emotions and wept freely on Claire. She rocked him back and forth, trying to calm him down.  
His body became heavy and exhausted, he gave into sleep still wrapped in Claire’s arms.

Claire and Jamie looked to one another, tears marking their own cheeks.

“Did he really believe we loved him any less than a son?” Claire asked, her chin quivered and she pulled Fergus tighter to her.

“I dinna ken, Sassenach, but we will make sure that he never goes a day without knowing he is loved and has a family.”

Jamie grabbed her hand and eased it off of the emotion-induced sleeping child. “Here, lay him down. He’ll no thank us in the morning if his back hurts from the angle ye’ve got him at.”

As Jamie and Claire eased Fergus down to the bed, he tightened his grip on Claire as she and Jamie released him. His dark brow furrowed in pain.

“Mam, Da…” He mumbled out in sleep, “ _Ne me quitte pas…_ ”

Smiling, Claire bent down and kissed his brow, Jamie following suit shortly after.

“Never, _mo mhac. Tha gaol againn ort._ ”


End file.
